


You Worry Me

by Vaderfanboi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaderfanboi/pseuds/Vaderfanboi
Summary: You are a Sergeant in the First Order. The loss of your unit is incredibly difficult for you to handle and Phasma tries to care for you as much as she can





	You Worry Me

**Author's Note:**

> I headcannon that Phasma's first name is Brienne bc of GOT and it makes me uncomfortable to only use someone's last name so you see that a few times in this fic

Uniform boots clicked on black tile floors.  
Fingers typed incident reports on keys.  
Whispers of rumors spread to the ears and mouths of colleagues.   
All things you might have heard if your ears were not still ringing with shock. You let your comrades die in battle and now you would have to fill out forms as some sort of receipt for the lives they waste- no. They weren't wasted, but sacrificed. That line of thinking could have you reconditioned for conspiracy to treason. Still, the whole process felt very disingenuous. 

Your senses felt dulled, like nothing could shake you from your headspace. You just kept reading your forms. Near a whole day’s equivalent had passed before anything interrupted your silence.

It was a chrome-plated hand making a snapping motion. After a few seconds of focusing, you heard the snaps that accompanied the action. You looked up to meet the helmet of your girlfriend, Phasma. It takes you a moment, but you register that she’s speaking to you. 

Looking around, you see the officers staring at you, wide-eyed. They think you're being insubordinate; they don't know anything. They don't know that you have been with her for over nine months, or that your lack of response was not out of spite. They did, however know that your unit was killed in combat. Everyone knew.

“Sergeant (L/N), answer me” The static vocals coming from the helmet were demanding but you could sense the distress in her tone. 

You couldn't answer, Phasma, though. You hadn't heard a thing she asked you. You opened your mouth to ask but no words could come out so you just closed it again and looked at her visor. 

“I asked when was the last time you stood from this spot. You've been unresponsive to my questioning, should I take this as refusal to address a superior?” She asked. A lot of times, to avoid being discovered, Phasma would threaten to discipline you during shifts. She didn't scare you, though, you just had to act like it did. You just couldn't find the ability to pretend today. 

“No” You answered, quietly. Now the whole station was looking at you. You were a trooper, and troopers never just tell their Captains ‘no’. 

“No?” Phasma challenged. You had shown her very miniscule disrespect, but in the First Order, it could mean death. You couldn't even find the strength to apologise so you turned back to your holoscreen in silence. “When was the last time you ate?” She pushed her original concern. 

“Lunch” you answered without looking at the Captain. “Yesterday’s lunch”. 

“You haven't eaten all day?” She asked. When you didn't respond, she roughly grabbed you by your arm and walked you out of the officers station. 

“I'm not hungry, Brienne” you argued before being dragged into an empty conference room.

Phasma took off her helmet, dropped it, and held both of your hands in her own, gloved ones. You looked at her in a numb sort of presence like you weren't really looking at her but rather through her. Like you were looking at any direction that she just happened to occupy. 

“Tell me what's going on, (Y/N)” She ordered in the softest way she could. 

You finally managed to look her in the eyes. She was really worried and you felt guilty for making her feel that way. You had felt a lot of guilt as of late. “They died because I ordered them to storm that base. I trained them to be perfect soldiers and they obeyed my orders because they were perfect. And they knew it was suicide but I had to prove that they could do it. They died for my ego, Bri” you confessed, dryly. Whatever you were feeling, it had been suppressed into some deep corner of your mind. You refused to acknowledge your emotions until you finished the reports. There was no use in crying if it didn't provide results.

Captain Phasma had difficulties in comforting you. She had had plenty of troopers die under her orders. They were expendable, it was their job. You had always been more empathetic than she, it worried her. 

“I don't know how to make this easier for you” Phasma admitted. 

“You can't” you said with an unsettling strength in your voice. “We just need to win this war” you turned around, and returned to your station to finish your reports, alone.

**Author's Note:**

> War is hell. Thanks for reading


End file.
